Chapter 27
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Varlam
After Briony left, I'd promised not to interfere with her choices.
It was the most unfamiliar thing I'd ever done.
I was good at keeping people. Contracts, debts, threats, leverage—if someone had desires, there was always a rope to slip around their neck. Half the dirty money in New York passed through my hands. The other half knew when to shut up. I didn't need to raise my voice or repeat orders.
But Briony didn't want a more comfortable rope. She wanted me to let go.
So I started watching Makar instead.
Didn't approach Briony, didn't call her, didn't let anyone mention my name around her. I just watched to see if my brother was doing his job.
At least, that's what I told myself.
Makar had actually changed lately.
He'd turn down his drinking buddies' invitations, make special trips to Briony's favorite bakery for low-sugar cookies, patiently accompany her to prenatal appointments.
No clubs, no booze, no Chloe.
I should've been relieved. Briony hadn't misjudged him after all. But every time I saw them together, my chest felt like someone had shoved a red-hot coal inside, making it impossible to breathe.
If Makar had really changed, if he could give her stability, maybe he was the better choice.
I finally understood—letting go wasn't a single action. It was a long withdrawal.
Every morning meant making the same decision. Don't go to Philadelphia. Don't listen for her voice. Until one day, her name wouldn't make my ribs tighten anymore.
But I knew that day would never come.
I'd been numbing myself with work these past few days. Only numbers could make me temporarily forget that Briony had really left me.
I was reviewing files when my office door slammed against the wall.
Makar burst in, tie askew, hair windblown. Panic written across his face.
"Briony's missing!"
My chair crashed backward.
"What?"
"She's gone."
For a moment, I thought my ears were playing tricks.
I rounded the desk and grabbed his collar.
"She was with you." Each word scraped between my teeth. "I trusted you with her, and you lost her?"
"You never trusted her to anyone. She's not your property." Makar grabbed my wrists, face flushed.
The words hit exactly where I didn't want them to. My grip tightened.
"Then why the fuck are you standing here? Why aren't you looking for her?"
Makar shoved me off hard.
"I went to her place this morning. Door was pried open. No one inside. Briony's phone was on the floor." His chest heaved. "I called you a dozen times. You didn't answer. So I fucking drove here from Philadelphia!"
My heart slammed once. Briony was in serious danger.
I looked at Gleb in the corner. "Check surveillance near her place. Airports, train stations, docks—don't miss anything."
"Got it." Gleb pulled out his phone.
Makar paced the room. His breathing came too fast, fingers constantly raking through his hair. Not the state for clear thinking.
"Sit down," I said.
"Fuck that, I can't sit."
"Then stop circling in front of me!"
"If you hadn't dragged her into this shit, she wouldn't—" He turned on me.
My phone vibrated.
The whole room seemed to choke on its breath.
Unknown number on the screen. I opened the message.
The first photo loaded.
Briony tied to a wooden chair, hands bound behind her back. Golden hair tangled against her face, duct tape over her mouth. Pale as death, but those brown eyes glared straight at the camera.
That was her. Even bound and trembling with fear, she wouldn't give them the reaction they wanted.
The second message popped up.
"You blocked my number, but that's fine. I'll send you a huge surprise instead. Come alone to the address I'm sending. Time we had a proper talk—Brinny"
My stomach turned.
Makar snatched my phone.
"Brinny?"
He saw the photo of Briony bound. All color drained from his face.
A third message appeared—an address outside the city.
The Vasiliev family used to own several warehouses. My people had sealed most during asset liquidation, but some had been transferred through shell companies. This location wasn't on my original list. They'd prepared their exit long ago.
Maybe from the moment I'd said the Vasilievs would pay, they'd been planning this. Brinny knew damn well I'd walk into any trap for Briony and the baby.
"Get me building plans for that area." I gestured for Makar to hand the phone to Gleb.
He complied, but still slammed a fist on the desk.
"Stay calm."
"She's been kidnapped!"
"Which is why you can't charge in with guns blazing." I suppressed the urge to deck him.
"What are you waiting for? For them to dump her body in front of you? Don't forget—this is all because of you!" Makar shouted.
My lungs ignited, but I had no response. The photo showed Briony still watching me. She'd been taken because of me. If I hadn't gotten close to her, Brinny wouldn't be jealous, wouldn't use her as leverage for revenge.
"Damn it." The curse rolled from my throat.
My old pinkie injury started throbbing.
I forced the emotions down. Guilt wouldn't save her. Neither would rage. Only a plan could.
"Gleb. Map."
Gleb set the tablet on the desk. Satellite imagery spread out—an abandoned factory, river to the east, highway west, old rail line north. Main building had one obvious entrance, rear loading docks in the storage area.
"No live surveillance nearby," Gleb said. "Vasiliev's people cut power thirty minutes ago, but backup lines are still active. Vigo's involved. At least three vehicles went in. None came out."
Vigo's involvement wasn't surprising. He'd support whatever his precious daughter did.
"How many?"
"Eight confirmed. Maybe more."
Before he finished, Makar grabbed his coat. Gleb stepped sideways, blocking the door.
"Move."
Gleb's expression didn't shift. "No."
"I said move." Makar glared. "She's waiting for me."
"She's waiting for someone who can get her out alive." I looked up. "That's not you."
The air in the room froze. Makar turned, eyes red-rimmed.
"You're a bastard. When she fell in the ocean, you chose Brinny. Every time she needed you, you weren't there. And now you're going to sit here drawing diagrams?"
I walked up to him.
"Hate me all you want. After she's safe."
"I'm going now."
He tried to push past Gleb. Gleb caught his shoulder and pressed him against the wall. Makar struggled. Couldn't break free.
"Let go!"
"Calm down," I said.
Though my own emotions were at the breaking point.
"Fuck your calm!" He roared.
"Briony's pregnant. One wrong move, one stray bullet, or you forcing Brinny's hand early—kills them both." I ground my teeth. "You said you'd take care of her. Start by not indulging your impulses."
Makar's body went rigid, jaw trembling. Finally, he stopped fighting. Gleb released him.
"What's the plan?" Makar's voice came out hoarse.
I turned the tablet toward them.
"They want me alone. I'll let them see me alone."
I pointed to the factory's north side, addressing Gleb. "Old rail line has drainage ditches leading to the rear storage area. Take the first team in from here. Cut off their retreat, control the perimeter vehicles."
I tapped the east side.
"Second team approaches along the river. Wait for my signal. No signal, you hear the first gunshot, you move."
Makar stared at the map. "I'm going with you."
"No."
"Don't try leaving me behind."
"You're with Gleb."
"I'm going in first."
"You have no combat experience." I looked at him. "You could get yourself and Briony killed."
Impulse still showed on Makar's young face, but those eyes—so like mine—were starting to waver. He was considering more angles now.
"Stay with Gleb," I said. "Follow his orders. You go rogue, he'll knock you out himself."
Makar looked doubtfully at Gleb.
Gleb added calmly, "I will."
Makar had no choice but to agree.
Our car stopped two blocks from the factory. Gleb sat in front, checking communications one last time.
Then he and Makar disappeared into the darkness. I drove alone toward the factory.
The iron gate stood half-open. A big man at the entrance, gun hidden under his coat. He signaled me to stop, had another guy check under the car and trunk.
Thorough search. They examined my suit jacket, waist, pant legs—everything. Satisfied, they waved me through.
"Inside."
The main building door closed behind me.
The air reeked of rust, mold, and old grease mixed together. Half the corridor lights were dead; the survivors hummed their low drone.
Two men ahead. One at the stairs, another shadow behind the second-floor railing. At least four. I didn't look around, just scanned with peripheral vision.
"Straight ahead." A gun muzzle pressed into my lower back.
I complied.
We stopped at a door. The heavy metal swung open. Briony sat in the center of the warehouse. Same as the photo, but the image hadn't captured the marks on her wrists, the faint redness on her left cheek, or her ankles bound to the chair legs.
The instant she saw me, her pupils contracted. Fear surfaced. My heart felt crushed in a fist. She quickly suppressed it, shaking her head at me. Small movement, but clear enough.
I didn't stop.
Brinny stood behind her, gun in hand.
"You actually came alone." Brinny laughed.
Her eyes were bloodshot, lips pale.
"I'm here," I said. "Let her go."
"You think you're in charge?" Her voice turned vicious. "Varlam. You took our family business, kicked my father's people out of New York. Now you want to give me orders?"
"This is between you and me," I said. "Briony's not part of it."
"Wrong." She pressed the gun to Briony's head.
Briony's body trembled. My spine locked tight.
"This is all because of her!" Brinny's voice shot up. "Before her, you loved me. You waited for me all those years. When I came back, you still held me, took care of me, dropped everything when I said I hurt."
"I never loved what you've become," I said. "The person I thought I loved never existed."
"Shut up." She swung the gun toward me. "Shut up!"
Next second, Brinny shoved it back against Briony's head.
"You chose her because she's carrying your baby, right?"
"I really love her." I'd never been more serious.
Briony stared at me. Duct tape covered her mouth, but I could see her jaw trembling.
I wanted to take her away from here, back to safety. But that gun was still pointed at her. All I could do was stand there. Crush every impulse deep into my bones.
Wheels rolled across concrete. Vigo emerged from the shadows in a wheelchair. He sat there, white-gray hair slicked back. Time had thinned his body but not the malice in his eyes.
A pistol rested steady in his hand, aimed at my chest.
"Touching confession," he said.
"What do you want?" I looked at him.
Vigo's mouth twitched.
"Give my family back. Return our docks and warehouses, pull your people out of our territory. Every company you swallowed—return them all."
"Done."
Brinny froze.
Vigo narrowed his eyes. "You expect me to believe that?"
"You grabbed her to make me agree, didn't you?"
"I want guarantees."
"She stays here until you have the documents. Once they're signed, you take the money and leave New York." I spoke calmly, like this was a routine acquisition negotiation.
Vigo studied me, searching my face for cracks.
"You'll let us walk?"
"For my woman and child, I'll give you a way out." My gaze fell on Briony.
Not a lie.
If there was no other option, I'd hand over everything they wanted. Money could be made again, territory retaken, traitors eventually dealt with. But there was only one Briony.
Briony's eyes reddened.
Vigo finally laughed once. He lowered his gun, signaled to someone nearby.
"Bring him documents and a pen."
A figure in the shadows moved. The shape behind the second-floor railing drifted toward the stairs. They'd relaxed slightly. That was enough.
I looked at Briony. She looked back. She understood my expression. Her body shifted incrementally toward the right side of the chair back—movement so small it was barely visible.
Brinny didn't notice. She was watching me, victory creeping back onto her face.
I stepped forward half a pace. Every gun rose. I stopped, deliberately pulling all attention to myself.
Briony suddenly kicked against the floor. The wooden chair carried her whole body crashing into Brinny. Brinny let out a short scream and lost her balance.
They both hit the ground. The gun flew from Brinny's hand.
Vigo had already raised his weapon, aiming at Briony.
I charged.